Their Last Date
by FEARLESS-FightUntilWeDie
Summary: After their cover was blown, Gregory and Christophe decide to go on one last "date" There will be a sequel to this, by the funeral and stuffs


~Gregory's POV~

I sit on the couch in the basement, waiting for that Frenchman to return. Where could he be? I was sure he said 12 minutes, which the clock passed a long time ago. I hear a light clicking of heels in the distance, but no, it's nothing of the such. It's the brunette's combat boots clicking against the wooden floor. The heels of them were thick, so they sounded a lot like a girl's heels when walking down here. Our basement was pretty big and our regular living space. Not so much. Our home was small and I kept it clean, but Mole always had some excuse as why it was messy an hour later. He might've been a lot of trouble, but I love him a lot. Nothing can change that. I don't know why he had come home so early. Christophe was sent out to the other side of town to pick up our next assignment. I close my eyes until I hear the door open, then I will greet him. I always did.

~Christophe's POV~

I burst threw the front door, a loud bang from the collision with the wall and knob could be heard 3 streets over, in the "rich" neighborhood. I look around and I see Gregory nowhere in sight. The fuck?! I needed him now! Our cover was blown. The whole town knew who we really were and we had to get out of South Park by tonight. I knew myself we couldn't with all the things Gregory would want bring along. As I pace back and forth, my dirty hands on my thin hips and baggy pants, I think where the hell he would be. Upstairs. No. Kitchen. No. Basement? Bingo. I open the door and walk quickly to the living room in the cold cement room. I loved my boots, I really did, but did they really need to make this loud ass clicking sound?! I am no woman; I need not this loud sound when I walk. After a few minutes of rushing to the tidy room, which I /know/ Gregory was cleaning or had already cleaned, I kicked the door open and look at him "We gotta move, Gregoree"

~Narrator~

The blonde looked at him and raised one of his nicely, thin eyebrows "And why should we? There is nothing wrong with house and for the last time, Leo will not hurt you" Christophe scoffed and grabbed the Brit's thin arm and pulled him over the where their radio was. Gregory watched as he searched the stations for the right one. It took awhile but he turned it to a news casting station. They both hated to watch or listen to the news but this was important "Denver police are now arriving in South Park, where two mercenaries that go by the names Christophe DeLorne and Gregory Williams, have lived their whole lives almost. Why pe-" The brunette threw the small electronic to the wall located on the other side of the room and shook his love by his shoulders "Forget everytheeng een zis 'ouse. We won't need eet. Just get dressed et I follow moi. I know exactlee where I wanna go" Gregory tried refusing but was cut off. They both ran to the room next to the one they had argued in, almost, and started to dress. Gregory dressed in a white jacket with black stripes coming from both the leather sleeves down to his abdomen, a pair of black pants and converse to match. Christophe took his black leather jacket out and zipped it fully to his neck, after finding his leather gloves with the finger sockets on them, he put those on, with his boots and black Camo Capri's.

As they hurried, both the Frenchman and British boy could hear the sirens in the distance. Christophe had got out Gregory's red motorcycle and had it ready. The helmet laid lightly on the clean and unharmed seat. The Brit looked at him and shook his head quickly "I'm not leaving this house without you!" The brunette growled and handed him his white helmet "Meet moi by ze intersecteen by ze 'ighway. E'll catch up." Gregory hugged him and laid a soft kiss to his cheek "No" Christophe nodded "Amour, go" The blue-eyed boy listened this time, as to be rarely be called any romantic name by Mole. He laid one last glance at his partner in crime before taking off to the highway intersections, where the road to entering the highway and other roads that led elsewhere. The Mole finally found his black motorcycle and let the engine warm up a tiny bit before going in the same direction Gregory had gone, his black helmet on.

The blond waited impatiently in the red light traffic, at the front of course, but let out a relieved sigh to hear the engine of the other's bike, right next to him. Christophe looked over at him and raised the tinted glass up from his face "Let's race. For old teemes seeke. Just like we used to. No rules or stoppeeng unteel we run out of gas et 'ave to walk back" Gregory thought for a moment and raised the tinted glass as well, a smirk had already wormed itself over his face. "This might be our last time, so I will race with you mole" The Frenchman smirked and they both closed their helmets. Chris had always tried getting ahead, and since it would be like in the past, when they would ride these bikes until they broke down and they both ended up walking back home, he revved up the black Suzuki and sped off, a yellow Camry almost hitting the back tire. Gregory shook his head and at the exact moment the light changed to that old green color, he revved his as well as followed after the mischievous boy.

Not long after taking off, The blue-eyed Brit was on the French boy's ass end. Peeking from of his rear view mirrors, he yelled "Sheet!" But the engines and helicopter muted it almost. Sun blocked his view of Gregory and when he was able to look again, he was gone. The mirrors, he guessed anyway, were broken and he turned his head almost completely around to see he really wasn't there. Soon enough, he shrugged it off and then returned his green cat like eyes to the road ahead of him. After all, there were NO rules whatsoever. But just as Christophe thought he was racing by himself, Gregory was in front of him, the fucker had been on the bridge above the highway and he and his bike had fallen from there. He smiled/smirked at this but gasped when the blond made a 18 wheeler almost tip on top of the Mole, by pulling out in front of it, then taking off behind it's dust. Thankfully though, Chrissy got away from death again. Soon enough, they were side to side, taking off down the highway like today was there last day. Christophe would get ahead, then Gregory would get ahead, only for them to end right back next to each other laughing devilishly.

They had stayed on the same route for a very strong, fun, amusing, entertaining, and exciting 2 hours. The bikes were ready to run out of fuel some time soon. The blue eyed blond looked at the green eyed brunette and saw he had been eying the car next to him, which there was a man flipping him off and beeping for speeding. It grew on Christophe's last nerve, and as everyone knows he gets angered easily, he used his front tire to hit the man's left front tire and send him rolling through the large wave of cars, trucks and truckers behind them. Gregory for once laughed at his mischievous ways and nodded. The Mole looked at him and used his free hand the take off his sweaty black helmet. The blond didn't want him hurt but the brunette was hard to understand at sometimes, but Gregory understood perfectly why he acted the ways he did. They caused tons of trouble in another 5 minutes. Making cars crash and trucks hauling cars to the dealers, lost their load and the shiny new vehicles had rolled and been hit by other passing cars, which had dents in them from either the British boy or the Frenchman. They both had to work on a Ford dealer trucker to knock the 4 new cars off and a cop finally noticed and knew exactly who they were. Turning on his red and blue sirens he sped after them, also telling back up and the helicopters where they were, what highway etc. Not long after they had been discovered, cops blocked the way they were going and blocked their path back. Gregory panicked for a minute and looked at his lover, who was focused on the straight, blocked, cop filled road ahead "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" He screamed taking helmet off as well. The Mole looked at him and just sighed "JUST DO WHAT I DO! DON'T LOOK BACK, AMOUR!" Gregory stopped. They couldn't go any farther even if they tried, policemen with shotguns were behind and in front of their road. Christophe didn't seem to care for a minute but he drove a little bit closer to the stack of cars heading out of the small town of South Park, before turning his bike around by skidding and looking at Gregory, his eyes filled with tears. Only, he wasn't crying for his sake, for the Brit's sake. The brunette mercenary looked up at the sky, rain was on its way. When did that happen? He didn't care and didn't want to. Lightning struck the ground in front of the two boys, frightening them both. Christophe grew over it, Gregory didn't. Know he knew what his boyfriend was doing. They sat there for a few more moments before the both revved their bikes and both of the boy's vision became blurry. Both drove as fast as the could into each other and the lightning hit the ground as the collided, causing a huge explosion in front of all the policemen.

This was their last date together. They spent dates like this. Riding their Motorcycles as far as the eye could see and beyond until either growing tired, bored (which never happened), or they had no gas left in the tanks. Christophe loved these kinds of things, but never told Gregory. Gregory never asked Christophe if he would marry him, which is why he wanted him home on time, so he could as this question. The only thing Christophe wished to tell Gregory before they ended up doing this (which he knew would happen one day) is that he loved him more than life. Those two things were never said, but only one will get said.

/There will be a sequel to this. Don't worry, this isn't the best story but I worked really hard on it so I hope ya love it. If you don't. ;-; ok then XD Bye guys!/


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